


Expressions

by Mareel



Series: Always [8]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Bedside Vigils, Canonical Character Death, Destroy Ending, Epistolary, Grief/Mourning, Hospitalization, Love, M/M, Mass Effect 2, Memories, Post-Canon, Post-Mass Effect 3, Romance, Survivor Guilt, kaidanappreciationweek2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.</em> - Henry Wordsworth</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expressions

**Author's Note:**

> The takes place approximately ten weeks after the Reaper War was won ( _Mass Effect 3_ : Extended Cut, _destroy_ ending). The _Normandy_ has returned to Earth and Kaidan is with Shepard in a hospital in London, who is still in a coma. 
> 
> This was written for Kaidan Appreciation Week 2015, Day 6: Grief/Guilt/Sadness.

 

Shepard, 

Of course you'll never see this, but the therapist I finally agreed to talk to today suggested I write it. I really didn't want to talk to anyone, particularly a stranger, about any of these things, but Anderson suggested that I at least try this therapist. He didn't make it an order, but he's been pretty concerned about me since you were lost. 

'You were lost' – that's one hell of an ironic euphemism. You died. I'm the one who's lost. 

I still can't believe any of it really happened. I'm sure I'll wake up soon and we'll be on the _Normandy_ on a mission to chase down a rumor of geth somewhere. You'll poke your head out of your cabin and peek around the corner to see if I look too busy to talk. 

Let me tell you a secret, Shepard. I was never too busy to talk to you. But sometimes... I don't know... I felt like I was just taking up your valuable time because I _liked_ talking to you. So I'd say I was in the middle of something. You never insisted... sometimes I wished you had. 

I'm still kicking myself for being so out of commission with a migraine that night before Ilos. I know you were looking for me – Dr. Chakwas sent you away saying I was in no condition to talk to anyone. I can only imagine everything that must have been on your mind that night - heading for that place in a stolen ship, with Anderson's blessing, no less, but still... That was a pretty heavy burden for you to be carrying and I wish I could have been your ear or your shoulder that night – whichever you needed most. 

Anyway. I shouldn't let myself get lost in memories. It did happen. We were attacked. You stayed behind to get Joker out. You sent me to get everyone else to the pods. I wanted to come back to help you with Joker, but you ordered me away with the others. 

I know you weren't thinking about it being the last order you'd ever give. Our eyes met, despite the helmets and the smoke, and nothing in your face gave any hint that you didn't expect to see me at the emergency-landing site. All I could do was obey and get the others to safety.

But I had a premonition. A bad feeling about it, if you will. I tried to memorize your face. And when it happened, I saw... everything. Watched helplessly. And nothing has ever been the same. 

Survivor guilt. It's a bitch, but I get it. This isn't just that. I could talk about that to people. Did discuss it some with Anderson. About how I failed you by not keeping you safe. That was my job – to always have your back, to keep you safe. He clasped my shoulder and told me I did all I could. But knowing that didn't help.

Grieving the loss of a colleague, even of my commander – that's understandable. You and I worked so closely together. Sometimes it felt like we didn't even need to talk to communicate, especially in battle. You were there – I was on your six. 

But there's something else, beyond the survivor guilt – the thing I can't talk about to anyone. It's why I'm trying to write this, to put it into words for myself at least.

Shepard... you didn't know this. I kept it buried pretty deep. And I hesitated to even give it a name. I persuaded myself that what I was beginning to feel toward you was just admiration, maybe some hero-worship. Or a friendship forged in battle together. It was that. But it was more.

Somewhere between Eden Prime and Ilos, I fell in love with you. It took your death to make me realize it. My grief isn't just for the Commander. It's for the man I loved. It's colored by regret for never having had a chance to tell you, to see if there was any chance that... one day... you might see me as more than a friend.

Okay. That was hard to even write. I don't know if I ever could have said it to you aloud. 

I never saw you with anyone, even though you had plenty of willing opportunities. Maybe you really were that focused on the work. Or maybe you were just choosy or were worried about regs. 

But I thought... sometimes... that I could see a flicker of something that might be interest. A glance that lingered a little longer than necessary, an appreciative look as we suited up together... your resolute refusal to even glance at me if we ended up in the shower room together. 

I valued our friendship enough to bury the rest, not to trouble you with it. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Or it was not something for now, but maybe for later. I don't know. 

Anyway. I only wish you could have known before you died. Known that you didn't die alone. A part of me died with you.

You were loved. 

Goodbye, Shepard. I hope you found some kind of peace. 

Kaidan

_________________________________

 

When I close the file, my hand is trembling and my eyes are wet. The memory of that time is so painful. I'm not sure how I got through it all. One day at a time, I guess. 

I'd stumbled onto the old locked personal file on my omni-tool while searching for something to read on another long night here in this hospital. Sleep doesn't come easily. I think I've forgotten how it feels to stretch out between cool sheets with a soft pillow. But I'm where I want to be. I wouldn't trade any bed anywhere for the warmth of his hand in mine.

At least John is unaware of time passing. The docs say it's not the time yet to try to bring him out of the coma. He's restless sometimes, making me wonder if he's fighting toward consciousness... or fighting Reapers in an endless nightmare. It's a relief to me when the nurse adjusts his IV line, increasing the dose of whatever lets him rest more peacefully.

Tonight, I finished reading the novels that Tali left for me. Her taste in literature makes me smile... such a romantic. She offered to get me the musical versions of any of the stories I particularly liked, but I think that's something of an acquired taste that I haven't quite developed yet. 

Instead, I'd rummaged thru my omni-tool files. Finding an old cache of 21st century science fiction stories, I saw a locked personal file among them. When I opened it, I didn't know whether to read it or just hit delete. 

_Delete_ wasn't really an option. I vividly remember writing it. I'm stronger now than I was then – by reason of the man whose hand I'm holding. I can feel his pulse. He's alive. 

So I reread my words of grief.

I'm so grateful that we had another chance. I can say those words aloud to him now. In our last moment together during the battle, when I couldn't bear the thought of losing him again, those words kept me going. Maybe it helped him too... someone to live for... 

Every time I take his hand, I tell him just one thing. One day he'll be able to hear it again. 

"I love you, Shepard. Always."

__________________________________________________

 


End file.
